


The Last Cup

by Acacieae



Series: Vignettes Collection: From Undiscovered Countries [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, M/M, POV Third Person, Pre-ANH, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 22:29:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8178467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acacieae/pseuds/Acacieae
Summary: Luke delivers a gift to Ben Kenobi and gets treated to dinner. He also learns where Ben is from and why he has taken to living on Tatooine. It’s all true…from a certain point of view.





	

Luke lifted his knuckles to the door and hesitated. Did he _really_ have to go through with this?

No, only one more to go, he admonished himself, and then he had the speeder and the rest of the day to hang out with friends in Anchorhead. There was no reason whatsoever to be nervous, and the sooner he got this over with, the sooner the fun could begin.

Nothing for it. Luke knocked.

No reply. He waited. He listened for any movement within and heard nothing. He knocked again, more firmly this time. He counted to ten under his breath. Still nothing. Well, it looked like the old man wasn’t at home. Perhaps he should just leave the gift on the doorstep—

The door opened with startling abruptness. Ben Kenobi stood behind it, eyes squinting into the long afternoon light for a moment before settling with mild curiosity on Luke.

“My goodness, this is a surprise,” Ben remarked, combing his fingers through thinning white hair self-consciously. “I wasn’t expecting callers today. Or any day, if I’m to be perfectly honest.” The last was muttered under his breath. “Ahem. Young Skywalker…hmm…Luke, isn’t it? Haven’t you grown as fast as a politician’s lie! To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“Well, uhh…” This awkward barrage of chatter was unexpected.

Luke took a moment to gather his thoughts and proffered the double-handled ceramic jug he’d nearly forgotten he was holding. “Aunt Beru sends her best wishes for a Bright Solarnen. She would have come herself, but with our primary filtration array out of service again this week, Uncle Owen needed her on the farm.”

Ben’s eyebrows rose. “I see. So Solarnen is today? I’d completely forgotten.”

It took a very…special sort of person to forget about Solarnen, the longest and hottest day of the year on Tatooine. In the early days of colonization of the desert planet, back when sunstroke and dehydration were still killing thousands annually, frightened beings had hidden indoors and underground on Solarnen. Nowadays, though, it was just a welcome day off from work and school.

But gifts of water to one’s neighbors were still proper and traditional.

And the eccentric, aging recluse who’d taken up residence in an abandoned settler’s homestead deep into the Jundland Wastes was their neighbor. Sort of.

“I’ve just finished preparing the evening meal. Perhaps you would like to join me?” Ben stepped backwards and held the door open wide in invitation. The air was suddenly filled with the mouth-watering fragrance of freshly-baked bread.

Luke’s stomach growled audibly. Teenage boys like him were always famished, and besides, he told himself, it would be rude to refuse. “Sure,” he mumbled as he stepped over the threshold and into Ben’s home.

It wasn’t at all what he might have expected. The main living area, though shockingly primitive, was scrupulously clean. Whitewashed adobe walls, not a speck of dust or stray grain of sand anywhere. And there was no clutter, none of the bric-a-brac lying about that might normally be expected to collect in the course of ordinary living. In fact, there was nothing to give any indication of the sort of person residing there. Luke found that rather odd.

A large flatbread was cooling atop an oven in the kitchen alcove. Ben transferred the bread to a low table and gestured for Luke to sit down. “We can have the water you brought too. A lovely change of pace,” he said.

Luke nodded. Expertly, he broke the airtight seal on the mouth of the jug and filled the two cups Ben provided. With the exception of expensive offworld imports, vaporators were the only source of fresh water on Tatooine. But the water provided by most basic homestead units was not of particularly high quality, so most humans preferred to drink strong, bitter teas, soured milk, alcoholic beverages, and the like. Clean, sweet-tasting water required advanced filtration technology as well as just the right concentration and balance of mineral additives. Moisture farmers guarded bespoke recipes for drinking water jealously and passed them down from generation to generation; the Lars family was known for some of the best in the region.

The bread was warm and fluffy and accompanied by small dishes of sweetmeat chutney, peppery yogurt, and fermented bean paste. It was delicious. Luke hummed happily while he chewed.

Ben, for his part, ate sparingly and made polite conversation. He commented on the weather, the fluctuations in the price of water, the ongoing troubles with the Sand People in the border regions. He inquired into the health of Luke’s aunt and uncle and the direction of his studies at school.

The last was a bit of a sore topic for Luke. “I’d like to join an academy after graduation. Everyone knows I want to become a pilot, and I’m really good at flying.” It wasn’t a boast if it was true. He launched into his oft-rehearsed complaints heedlessly. “But Uncle Owen keeps on saying he needs me at the farm. ‘We’ll hire help next year,’ he says. Then next year comes, and here I am stuck again. I’m never, ever getting off this dust ball!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be in such a hurry to leave,” Ben said, staring into his cup pensively.

“I want to see the galaxy—actually do something with my life!” He was whining now, but he couldn’t help it. Once he started venting his frustrations, it was hard to stop.

“The galaxy is overrated.” Ben shrugged and poured more water into his cup.

That was rich, coming from the likes of the reclusive Ben. “And just how would you know?” Luke challenged. “Where are you from originally?”

“I was raised on Coruscant.” Entirely matter-of-fact.

Luke gaped. Imperial Center. The heart of Human civilization. That Core accent wasn’t just an affectation. He said the first trite thing that popped into his head: “That must have been amazing.”

“Looking back on it, I suppose it had its moments.”

“Then why are you—” Luke grimaced and looked away guiltily.

Desert isolation didn’t exactly make for a popular first-choice destination. When offworlders came to live on Tatooine, it was usually because there was something they desperately needed to leave behind. Luke had learned long ago not to ask too many questions.

Ben seemed to take no notice of his discomfort and answered his question anyway. “The man I loved came from Tatooine,” he said.

The _man_ he—

Oh.

Luke felt his face flushing, and he took a hurried gulp from his cup. Some of the boys at school liked to tell vicious rumors about crazy old Ben. Luke had never credited any of them, but perhaps there was a grain of truth to be found after all.

“He never missed an opportunity to complain about it. He hated sand.” Ben smiled wistfully.

“Well,” Luke ventured, “he may have had a point.”

“There are far worse places than Tatooine, Luke. The sunsets are spectacular.”

“Right.” He failed to conceal his skepticism.

“And… Being here… It reminds me of him.” Ben’s voice seemed to catch on itself. He took a deep breath and sighed. “I suppose it’s my way of keeping the memories of our time together alive.”

“Where is he now?”

“He…he passed away. Many years ago, before you were born.” Ben’s expression had become closed off. It was abundantly clear that he didn’t want to talk about it any further.

Luke swallowed convulsively as a sympathetic ache bloomed in his chest. To have loved and lost and stayed true for so long… This was like one of Aunt Beru’s bedtime stories: epic romance and hidden tragedy, devotion transcending the separation of death. He wouldn’t have believed such passion could be real.

They ate the rest of their meal without speaking, adrift in the currents of their own respective thoughts.

When the food was gone from the table, Ben lifted the water jug and tested its contents.

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong,” he said, “but I believe it is traditional on Solarnen to give the last cup to the earth.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Ben poured the remaining water into Luke’s cup. “Why don’t you do the honors?”

They went outside. Ben’s compound sat on a high plateau overlooking the Dune Sea, commanding views of the surrounding terrain from all sides. Tatooine’s twin suns were beginning to sink below the horizon, cloudless sky painted in a blazing wash of color. The wind whispered. Shadows lengthened their crooked fingers across the dunes.

Luke tilted his cup forward slowly. Water dripped with a soft, dull patter into dry, thirsty ground that swallowed it up immediately. In less than a minute, the damp spot in the earth had disappeared as if it had never been.

“One must experience abundance before one can comprehend sacrifice,” Luke recited. He knew the adage associated with this ritual by heart.

Ben gave no indication that he had heard and did not speak further; Luke was loath to break the silence. They watched the sky until the stars came out.

“You don’t like the galaxy because it took him away from you. Is that right?” he asked finally.

“The sunsets truly are spectacular here.” Ben’s voice was oddly tight. He rubbed his eyes roughly with the heel of one hand. Like he had been staring too long directly into the fading light.

***

Luke did not go into Anchorhead that night. He drove straight back to the farm instead. His aunt and uncle were surprised to see him home so early, and they were even more surprised when he kissed them both on the cheek before turning in for bed.

His dreams were filled with warmth and throbbing sweetness and an abiding love that triumphed over everything.

Somewhere, not all that far away, Obi-Wan Kenobi wept.

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> (1) Solarnen and the Ritual of the Last Cup come straight from my head.
> 
> (2) The characters in this story also appear in “[That Sleep of Death, What Dreams May Come](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7731400),” “[What Dwells in Us](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10237940),” and the rest of the stories in the [From Undiscovered Countries Vignettes Collection](http://archiveofourown.org/series/563048). There is some overlap with Chapters 23 and 24 of “What Dwells in Us.” However, your basic understanding and enjoyment (or lack thereof) of any of these stories shouldn’t be affected by not having read any of the others. For convenience, I have created an AO3 collection for all of these loosely interconnected stories [here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Star_Wars_Undiscovered_Countries).


End file.
